


Bath of Enlightenment

by Nia_Kantorka



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angelology, Don’t copy to another site, M/M, Pre-Slash, archangels aren't Archangels, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 14:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21147302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nia_Kantorka/pseuds/Nia_Kantorka
Summary: Here is what happens when an angel in disguise takes a bath in Hell.





	Bath of Enlightenment

**Author's Note:**

> This work is dedicated to all attendees of TheIneffableCon. It was an amazing weekend. Thank you! ♥
> 
> Special thanks go to [ElectraRhodes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectraRhodes/pseuds/ElectraRhodes) for making this Zine and to [Candamira](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Candamira/pseuds/Candamira) and [ClassicHazel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassicHazel/pseuds/ClassicHazel) for their alpha and beta read.

**Bath of Enlightenment **

An overwhelming riptide crashed over him and he had to close his eyes for a second, to keep himself and the role he was playing in check. It took only a few seconds for the holy water to slosh around Aziraphale, who was embodying Crowley in Hell.

>><<

God's army of angels had forgotten all about their Fallen brethren. A clever idea of the Almighty, who needed them to be able to fight each other. Aziraphale understood Her reasoning. All of Heaven did. 

It had never bothered him. Not even when he had become best friends with a demon. Technically, Aziraphale had found more than his best friend, but that was a thought he usually didn't dwell on.

So, he had been happy. For centuries, he had enjoyed Crowley's company whenever the demon had been around. Sometimes too much, and he had withdrawn, even though it had always left him feeling bereft. The looming apocalypse-that-wasn't had also put a damper on their stay on Earth and a strain on their relationship, but — however inept Crowley and he had been - they had survived. As had the world. Just by supporting Adam Young, they had garnered the modicum of luck Earth had needed.

The relationship with Crowley was another matter; Aziraphale knew it was his turn to work for it, as the demon had done so for more than a while.

>><<

After a night of being in each other's bodies and getting the other's help with sorting its functions out, Aziraphale had become a pro at Crowley's saunter and swagger. He had handled those sunglasses as if they were part of his body, and — most importantly — had had Crowley's expressive speech patterns down to an art, _eers_ and _ahhs_ included. There had been a few lapses; Crowley would never say _tickety-boo_, not even when hit hard on the head, but the demons around him had been far too elated about their catch to pay any attention to it. 

When Aziraphale and Crowley had reached Crowley's flat after the detoured bus ride to London, it hadn't taken them long to work out what Agnes' prophecy meant. It insinuated that they would be able to survive in the other's body, and so they had plucked up the courage to swap forms. They were from one stock, after all, and so the switch had been easy-peasy. Seeing himself through Crowley's eyes had been the real challenge; it was both wonderfully surreal and terribly frightening all at once. If they hadn't known that their respective head offices wanted to get rid of them in earnest, it would have been good fun. 

They had fed the other most painstakingly with the necessary knowledge. Aziraphale had talked the demon through the most obvious changes in Heaven, as Crowley hadn't set foot in there for at least six millennia. The demon had looked a bit constipated throughout the lesson and Aziraphale guessed that Heaven had changed a lot since his fall. Neither had commented on how painful this topic might be for Crowley. The hypocrisy of angels was glaringly obvious, though: they might look down at humans, but adapted fast to all of humankind's fancier designs. 

Crowley had described the gloominess and narrowness of Hell with clinical precision, especially the inhabitants that would want to bear witness to his demise, Hastur and Dagon, in full gory detail. It worked. Aziraphale, who had never met them, knew immediately who was who when he saw them for the first time at Crowley's farce of a trial.

>><<

Aziraphale put on a ridiculous show in Hell. Crowley was as fussy as the angel when it came to his clothes, so Aziraphale didn't even have to pretend. Also, he knew only the best was good enough for the demon - so his concern wasn't even exaggerated. Aziraphale only added a flair of drama to his own pretentious mannerisms. He was still proud that he managed to get into that tub without getting his socks wet. 

All thoughts about clothes vanished when the water hit him and, with it, a rush of memories. They flooded Aziraphale's brain with a vengeance: How Heaven had been when they all had lived together. The demons had been their former selves — angels. When they all had been with God, bumming around Her in worship, while diligently maintaining the angelic orders according to their hierarchy[1]. The funniest thing: Aziraphale remembered that he held a higher rank than that lot. A Principality was among the lowest group of orders, but ranked above archangels and angels. 

For a second, Aziraphale forgot about his and Crowley's plan and hoped Gabriel or Michael would pay him a visit soon. He grinned and splashed water around, the shouts of horror only adding fuel to his mischievous playfulness.

Then, more memories coursed through this body. Maybe being exposed to holy water in this hybrid state of an angel's spirit inhabiting a demon's body was the catalyst needed. Now, he remembered Crowley as an angel, and — goodness! — he had been equally gorgeous back then as he was now. Also, he had been way out of Aziraphale's league. 

Crowley had been one of three princes of the Seraphim that had fallen first. No wonder he sometimes talked about Lucifer and the guys. He was not only the serpent of Eden, he was also known as Ouroboros. Humans falsely associated him with a crocodile, but also knew him by his angelic name — Leviathan. Why he didn't play a greater role in Hell's hierarchy was a mystery to Aziraphale. Maybe he had had enough from politics. Possibly, he had had a spat with Beelzebub. She didn't seem very fond of him. Or, the Fallen had to wrestle for their place in Hell, and Crowley had fought so much during their first war that it lasted him for another lifetime. Whatever the reason, the latter seemed most likely to Aziraphale as it would also explain why the demon avoided humankind's crueller side whenever possible.

Not much time had passed when Michael came to collect the holy water. Aziraphale couldn't pull rank the way he wanted to; asking the Archangel to miracle him a towel was the best he could do in his current situation. For sure, he would cherish the expression on her face forever. Revenge really _was_ sweet.

After reaching a satisfactory understanding between Beelzebub and "Crowley", he couldn't wait to get back to the surface to see how the demon had fared in Heaven. Aziraphale assumed it had gone without a hitch. Now that Aziraphale knew where Crowley's steely and stalwart core was born from, he longed to see him with his own eyes again even more. The yearning sat as a carnal knot in his belly and grew stronger, particularly while being subjected to the holy water, than it ever had been.

Aziraphale vowed to this body, Crowley's vessel, that he would find the courage to tell its rightful owner how he felt. The one person who had stood by his side since the beginning of Earth deserved to know how Aziraphale felt about him. Aziraphale tried not to think about how soft he was, compared to Crowley, nor how wrong the conversation could go as a result, _nor_ about the fact that, in Heaven, Crowley would have outranked him by a country mile. If Crowley wanted to be with him, Aziraphale would happily spend the rest of his life with the demon, however long that might be. If not, some wooing would be in order. 

With firm resolution, he sat up, scrunched his nose in a very undemoniacal way, and smirked. Then he left the tub. 

It had, indeed, been a very enlightening bath in Hell.

>><<

1For everyone interested in the angelic orders according to Christian angelology:

Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones are of the first and highest order. Dominions or Lordships, Virtues or Strongholds, and Powers are part of the second and middle order. Part of the third and lowest order are Principalities, Archangels and Angels. The most powerful in each order are named first.[return to text]

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are love.


End file.
